


As easy as falling down

by ThatwasJustaDream



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Community: 1_million_words, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-04 06:00:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1077419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatwasJustaDream/pseuds/ThatwasJustaDream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes they're just molehills, those relationship frustrations. Other times they hide mountains of doubt, and it's only if you're lucky that you'll realize what you have before it's gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As easy as falling down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StarbucksSue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarbucksSue/gifts).



> Written as part of the Hawaii 5-O Holiday Swap! This evolved from the prompt: "Danny taking Steve away to experience a true white Christmas, snuggling in a nice log cabin in the wilderness with a real log fire to cheer him up. Maybe to take his mind off all the family angst he's had to go through."
> 
> But wow, it went very hurt/comfort from there! Sorry if that's not your thing, hope you find something you enjoy in it.

Danny didn’t notice the way his fingers were drumming on the hard plastic; didn’t hear the ‘thrump-thrump-thrump- _THA-rump_ , thump thump’ he was causing until Steve’s palm pushed his hand flat to the airplane armrest.

“Sorry,” he said, but the frown on the face next to him didn’t ease. “C’mon, I said I’m…”

“Knew you’d regret this whole trip,” Steve mumbled, if Danny had caught it right. 

Uh-oh. 

Yeah, the two of them bickered so often you could set your watch by it but _this_ wasn’t _that_. Steve was broody again. He’d probably been kicking himself mentally with the thought since well before their backsides dropped onto seats 10A and 10B.

“You should have gone home to Jersey for the holidays. It’s not even like Christmas means all th…”

“Stop. It.” Danny made a left-handed fist, reaching, tapping him in the jaw. “One tiny fit of nerves out of me on a plane and…”

“Okay, now you’re making it worse; you’re _lying_ ; you don’t _get_ nervous on planes,” Steve wasn’t shouting but was, well, loud; as if they were in the car alone, as if dozens of people weren’t feet away. “You may hate it when I fly you in the helicopter but I know you’re _perfectly_ able to cede control on a commercial flight. This is about…”

“Excuse me, woah, woah and hold up; I’ll thank you to stop putting words in my relatively silent mouth,” Danny talked over him until Steve stopped. “May I point out that this trip was my idea? I was only…wondering how Grace is. Yeah, I promised to stop, but, hey surprise! I’m still pissed she’s going to freaking Paris with her mom and her… friend and…”

“ _Boyfriend,_ ” Steve hit the word so hard the B popped almost like a P. “Say it along with me, Danny, ‘My daughter is _fifteen_ , my daughter has a _boyfriend_. Grace is going to have fun on her vacation while her _dad_ does not have any _fun_ on his….’”

“Excuse me,” the passenger across the aisle to Danny’s right hiss-whispered their way, apparently on behalf of the entire row from the faces behind her. “How long have you two been married?”

“Ohhh, I’ll bet you think we’ve never heard that one before.” 

“Ohhhhhhh… I’m very sure you have.”

Mercifully, the pilot announced the pre-flight safety video and everyone sat back.

“I’ll call her when we land and ask her to text me once in awhile. Then I swear I’ll let it go and enjoy the rest of the trip.” Danny said, much more quietly.

“Good.”

“And you need to stop being mopey and picking fights. I booked this ‘cause I’m really looking forward to it. It’ll be perfection simply being somewhere it isn’t 80 and sunny all the damn time, skiing with you, hanging out by the fireplace in the lodge after. Not to mention a bunch of cold, cold nights; big, down-filled comforters and smushy-plush beds….”

“You know what?” Steve’s voice got heavy, but at least it was a happy heavy this time – as if the pleasures of burrowing in to a mountain of blankets and pillows were something he could already feel. “That even sounds good to me.”

“Gonna put you belly down,” Danny reached up to whisper it in his ear. “Tie you to the headboard and….”

“Okay, stop…right there…cut it…”

“What now?”

“Please don’t get me wound with an eight hour flight ahead of us.” 

Steve said it eyes on the floor, a mock-haughty look on his face like his non-existent modesty was in jeopardy. Danny snickered and leaned down to look up at him, to flash him a little blast of ‘sex glare,’ nudging him when Steve laughed, looking out the window and pretending to examine the tar mac below. 

“There’s always the Mile High Club,” Danny offered. “We can wait until everyone snoozes and …”

“No. If we’re gonna take a chance on getting busted, let’s save it for the way home.”

“Good point, babe.”

Banter achieved, crisis averted. Danny kicked back and told himself maybe he was reading too much into Steve's tricky to parse moods. 

~*~

“Hey, look what I found,” Steve walked up to him in the resort gift shop, where Danny was picking through a display of gloves before they hit the lifts. “Try a bite…”

Danny wanted to tell him ‘no thanks.’ He wanted to fume some more, but he couldn’t. 

It had been late when they’d landed, and by then the playfulness on the plane was a mere memory in their worn, dehydrated brains; they had checked in at the resort and were out in minutes. When Danny woke, it was with great hopes for a tumble in the sheets, to do that burrowing they’d talked about and get up very, very slowly. 

Of course it went nothing like that. Steve was not only up, he was showered and dressed and tipping room service for the breakfast cart currently being wheeled in to their suite. Danny felt a flash of annoyance at his early bird, but then saw Steve’s softest smile and how proud he looked of his perfect timing.

Well, what couple was ever in perfect synch on vacation? 

“Beef jerky? You?” Danny dismissed his inner Grinch, now, and gave him a _wtf_ look as Steve pulled the treat from the plastic and offered him up the end that was still unchewed. 

“It’s veggie!” Steve waited until Danny had taken a bite, grinning at the face he pulled. “C’mon, it’s good, isn’t it? Admit it. Tasty!”

“I don’t know about good, but... it doesn’t suck. I guess if you put enough spices in anything…” Danny shrugged but kept chewing. “Hey, which of these do I buy?”

“Those,” Steve tapped the grey pair. 

“Sure? Not the black ones?”

“Yeah. These have a layer of that fabric,” Steve flipped them with his free hand, pushing them inside out a bit. “Neoprene; the astronaut stuff, nice and warm. That’s what they’re for, right? And the grey ones come with a scarf for the same price.”

“They’re kind of …puffy though. And I don’t need the scarf, I have a scarf.”

“So wear two, it’s cold. But if you’re looking for fashion tips you might want to send pics to Gracie and have her choose. Or Rachel. Or Kono. Even Chin. Really, pretty much anyone but me…”

Danny found himself fighting back irritation, and all Steve was doing was being light about it. And, well… honest. He shook his head at himself and took the grey ones, heading for the checkout. 

What was it about traveling that seemed to bring out the worst in travelers?

“Hey, D, why did you come up with this idea?” Steve asked and Danny swallowed hard; it felt like maybe he hadn’t hidden his little flush of annoyance as well as he thought. “It’s not like you’re the vacation type. Can’t remember the last time you took one.”

He looked up into Steve’s eyes, all grey-green and alert, prepared for any answer that may come, and his heart broke a little. There was no way he was going to broach it; the strain he’d seen him under in the family drama department. Mary’s experiment as an adoptive mom, for starters, was going about as well as anyone had expected (i.e. bumpy with moments of extreme terror). And then, there was the fruitless search for Doris who was either dead, in big trouble, or choosing not to be found. 

Talking to him about all of that in any depth? Or the rate at which the Longboards and scotch were suddenly disappearing from the house? Or his new habit of pacing the back yard at 2:00 a.m.? Virtually impossible because…. Steve. 

So he decided to help him run away from home- if only for a week. Maybe if they could rest, catch a break...the talking would come.

“I, uh, didn’t want to sit at home and mope over Grace. That’s why.”

“Yeah, right. That’s it.” Steve slid an arm down and around Danny, stroking his side with his fingertips, kissing his eyebrow as they waited their turn in line and, well, it wasn’t as wonderful as an hour of snuggling under the comforter but it was good. 

~*~

“Never would have thought of you as a skier,” Steve said. Danny watched him pull a flask out of his pocket and waggle it once they’d been on the lift for a while. “How’d you get into it?”

“Fifth-grade field trips,” Danny took it happily and they talked between swigs, passing it back and forth. “They gave us the choice; hiking, biking or skiing. They’d bus us every Friday all winter to this tiny resort about fifty miles from the city. Only eight lifts, not much to write home about, but…. wow, it was different, you know? Once I got pretty good at it and could go without thinking ... it was like brain eraser. I’d forget all about school, grades, fights with my friends, whatever. How did y…”

“Hey, maybe we should…” Steve started to move, like he was physically suggesting they toss up the bar and jump off the lift at mid-station, but then they were floating past it. “Uppp…nevermind.”

“You don’t want that stop, anyway,” Danny capped the flask, tucked it in Steve’s pocket for him. “We’ll be on the lift all damn day.”

“Yeah…right. Makes sense.”

Steve got quiet after that, eyes on the mountain that was looming like a jagged grey and white wall in front of them, glancing down every so often at the steep angle the lift was pulling them up at. Danny figured he was enjoying the silence, so he did too. All he could hear was the squeak of the belts on the lift, and heavy ‘plops’ whenever bunches of snow fell from the machinery to the ground below. Eventually they got so high up even those sounds went away and they were surrounded by something close to pure silence. 

“Hear that?” Danny asked softly, and his own voice sounded funny, like someone else’s. 

“Hear what?”

“Exactly. Okay, go-time,” Danny threw the bar up over their heads as the top of the hill came in view and they jumped, falling the few feet to the snow below. 

Danny landed it perfectly, skis parallel, turning left and up with a shoosh as he paused to get organized. Steve landed funny; one ski straight, the other at an angle that would have put him on his ass if he hadn’t caught himself. He swerved and skidded as he righted, then used his poles to pull himself back up toward a chuckling Danny. 

“Please don’t be pissed,” Danny was fastening his new gloves a little tighter. “But you looked like Bullwinkle minus the antlers, there, for a second. You okay?”

“Uh, this might not be the best time to tell you…” Steve was staring past him toward the trails, and the sharp drop-off they offered right from the get-go. “But, I… well, I thought it wouldn’t be this much …different. You know. From cross-country. I think maybe I was wrong.”

“ _Cross_ ….” Danny’s gaze flew to him, looking for a sign Steve was yanking his chain. “You have skied downhill before, right?”

“Not so much. I trained cross-country in mountain terrain years ago, uh, and there were spots that got…hilly. And I’ve watched a lot of Olympic downhill, so I figured, how much harder could it…”

“How much harder? Double black diamond trails on a world-class slope? What the hell were you thinking? Were you thinking at all?” 

Danny could feel himself perilously close to full-on rant mode and pulled back from it by breathing deeply. One of Steve’s biggest faults was assuming he could handle anything, but Danny knew even Steve wasn’t crazy enough to omit the ‘with proper training’ part from the equation. So, _what the holy hell?_

“You know, it’s pretty amazing how well we communicate on the job. ‘Cause wow do we suck on the personal stuff. I figured you being excited about the idea of the trip meant you _knew_ how to ski, that you _liked_ to ski.”

“I liked the idea of us getting away. And… you looked so excited…”

“Okay, okay this can wait. But when we get to the bottom, we are gonna have our first serious conversation in a while about your reckless streak.”

“Yeah,” Steve breathed it out, sounding chastened, but was already arranging his own gloves, testing the strap on his helmet, ready to go. 

“Here, c’mon,” Danny headed for the lip where two trails diverged and looked at their options, pointing left with a pole. “This one. I checked online at breakfast. It’s narrower but less steep. Which isn’t to say it’s not still pretty goddamned steep.”

“It’ll be fine,” Steve was ready to push off, but Danny tut-tutted to stop him.

“I’ll go first and stop down there; see where it levels off after this first drop? Come join me, and we’ll take it a step at a time…”

He could see Steve wanting to object then realizing he didn’t have a leg to stand on so to speak. Danny took off and felt butterflies in his own stomach at that first big, swooping plummet, heard the sound of his ski edges catching the snow and … crap, it was hard pack up here, slick as ice. He stopped and turned, felt his heart racing as he waved him a ‘go.’

“Woaaah!” Steve shouted, sounding so far away in the thin air. There was some terror in it, but a perversely amused kind of terror that made Danny grin despite his nerves, and drop a couple of f-bombs. Cocky fucker.

He flinched, like concentrating could help in some way as Steve made huge, wide turns, using most of the trail left to right and oh yeah, the run that had taken Danny seconds was going to take him a minute and a half at this rate.

“You got it, you got it babe,” He was heartened as Steve picked up some speed and tightened his turns. And then… “ _Oh!_ ”

The first of many wipeouts, very likely, but it wasn’t a terrible fall and Steve was half way to him, now. He’d only lost only one ski, neither pole.

“It’s up and to your left,” he shouted. The ‘yup’ he got back sounded determined. 

He watched him try to put the ski back on with it pointing down and was about to shout again when Steve caught the mistake and turned it sideways, pushing in with his boot and on his way again.

“Mother of….” Danny shook his head when Steve got there, panting, face pink from the wind and the exertion. “Listen, normally I’d be thrilled to find out there’s something I’m better than you at. But right now? I’m kind of terrified.”

“How many more times you figure I need to do that?” Steve nodded down the hill.

“To mid-way? Thirty or forty. And then we are so getting a ride the rest of the way.”

“No, I can do this,” Steve pushed off again and Danny followed, growling. 

It got better. The steeps weren’t as steep for a while, and once they were it was at a level that had more powder and was less slick. Steve took another couple of falls and Danny nearly tumbled, too, watching out for him. But he was doing it, the maniac, and while his form left a lot to be desired they were suddenly on track to get where they were going.

Then Steve got braver than experience merited.

“Ohhh… _damn!_ Yard sale!” Danny shouted. He could see Steve still tumbling, catching himself. His left ski was quite a ways behind him, the right south of him. His goggles got tossed sideways somehow. 

“Holy crap, I am bad at this,” He could hear Steve saying out loud to himself, chuckling, as Danny walked uphill sideways, digging in the sides of his skis step by step to get to him. 

Steve had one ski in hand by the time Danny handed him the other. 

“Hey, stay here a second,” Steve said, eyes down and hand reaching randomly for him as Danny scurried away.

“No way in hell. You’re going to lean on me and push me on my ass with that Bullwinkle body and we will both come tumbling down.”

Danny wasn’t kidding but he was laughing and so was Steve, laughing and swearing and then they were off again. 

Maybe it was the light at the end of the tunnel, or the endorphins from the laughter, but Danny started to enjoy the run. The sun broke through the clouds, catching the snow, making it glow and glint. There were shadows under the trees painting twisty, grey patterns to break up all that sparkle and the air was so sharp he could feel it filling his lungs. 

He was attaining that level of Nirvana he remembered when the path narrowed and he slowed to maybe let Steve pass, to watch him from behind. They were at the last of the roughest stretch they’d face, the one that curved along the outer edge of the slope and then back in toward the mid-way snack shack. Before that could happen, there was a strange sound behind him – a yell, and an odd, deep ‘oof’ followed by a thud. Not Steve – or, well, not just Steve; a kid’s voice, a teenager, maybe, had been the ‘yell’ part of it. Danny barely had time to look back before the boy was up and flying past him - way too fast for safety. 

“Irresponsible little….” Danny wanted to chase him down and lecture him on the hazards of excessive speed, until he realized it: He was alone. 

“Steve?” He turned as fast as he could without losing his balance but there was no Steve.

He hadn’t flown or rolled past him, so where…..

“Son of a…” Danny popped his skis off and ran as best he could in his boots toward the far side of the trail, peering over the side. There was nothing but a meager yard or two of buffer, an absurdly inadequate line of plastic netting that was more sign than fence, and a ledge riddled with rocks and snowdrifts. 

Peering down, he saw it dipping away at a horrifying angle that fell away into…nothing. Thin air. The closest ground below that was a heart-stopping distance away. Like ‘view out the airplane window’ distance.

He started sideways up the slope, eyes scanning, barely breathing, watching to make sure he didn’t come too close to the edge himself. He felt his heart start pounding wildly when he heard it – faint, still a ways up from him.

“Here, D… _shit_. I’m…here.”

“Oh no, oh….” he found him and stepped back, assessing, figuring out some way to reach him.

Steve was lying on his side about five feet below him at one of the barest points of the drop-off; no trees around him, only rocks and snow - part of the crumpled netting under him and who the hell knew how much or how little actual earth supporting him?

“Do not move.”

“Uh, not sure I can anyway,” Steve, despite the words, was trying to get from his side up onto to one knee. “My knee…”

“Steve, I’m serious,” Danny could hear rocks shifting around from that bit of motion. He’d never felt so close to being sick out of pure fear. “Please listen to me for once and do not move. It's very sheer behind you, the ... shit, no, no, don’t turn to look babe, I mean it.”

He was reacting on instinct now, flipping open his coat and peeling off the scarves; the one he’d brought and the one he’d bought, tying them together, knotting the ends tight.

“How far…” Steve stopped with the word ‘back’ still on his lips when he heard it, too; more rocks skittering, falling, and the snick of huge chunks of snow breaking away from the pack inches behind him; the same sound the snow they’d watched sliding off the lifts had made earlier. No plopping sound followed, though, and that was answer enough.

“You should go get help,” Steve said, much too calmly, and Danny translated in his head; ‘you should not stay here and maybe watch me die.’

“Take this,” Danny threw the end to him and scrabbled up to the closest tree – a thin, scrubby thing a couple of feet north of Danny that was barely clinging to the dirt itself. The scarves were long enough together to reach Steve and also be pulled around the thin trunk for leverage.

“I’m okay. So you know, Danny. In case. I’m not scared.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Danny pulled the scarf taut and then wrapped it around his fist, bracing himself against the tree and shouting to him. “Now, c’mon – up! Pull, okay? Use your good foot and your arms and get _up_ here, _now_!”

He couldn’t watch, closed his eyes, holding on to the tree and the improvised rope with all he had and listening to it happening instead; Steve shouting as he used both legs because, yeah, when the ground below you is giving out, what’s a fucked up knee and enough pain to make you want to puke, anyway? It was the work of maybe five seconds that felt like an hour, and when he opened his eyes Steve was on the trail, barely, face down and so still. Out from the hurt.

“Hey, you with me?” Danny crawled to him and shook him, was pulling him a few yards further toward the main trail and watching for skiiers coming at them when he heard a chunk of the ravine give way, rocks and then bolders breaking lose, taking swaths of soil with them.

“That’s it,” he thought. “That’s when I would have lost you.”

It didn’t strike him ‘til later to wonder how many times this made, this particular 'too close for comfort?'

 

~*~

“I’m so sorry…”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“I was in over my head…”

“You got _run over_. Seriously, stop it – that kid, when I find him, is…”

The only good thing about what happened is plenty of people saw it while sailing by. They’d barely made it to the other side of the trail and down a few hundred yards, Danny helping a barely-aware Steve hobble, when a Snow Cat came rolling toward them.

Then there was the long ride down and a trip to the hospital, which ended with a diagnosis of a grade 2 ACL tear and Steve refusing anything more than ibuprofen, crutches and a soft brace with pockets for cold packs.

“If it needs surgery…”

“If it needs surgery, I’ll get it when we go home. Not here and not now.”

“I gotta think there are a ton of doctors with outrageous amounts of ACL experience in Vail, babe. Can probably fix this with their…”

The look Steve shot him was so full of sad and stubborn and ‘need to be alone with you now’ that Danny stopped, hands raised in the universal gesture of surrender. 

~*~

“Wake up – dinner’s on the way,” They were back in the room and it was… who knew? Late O’Clock. 

Danny lifted his head to say it against Steve’s ear and then dropped down again, waiting, pinned to the long side of the sectional sofa in their suite by that long body. 

They’d been there for at least three hours, drifting in and out, the wavering orange and yellow from the fireplace a few yards away the only light in the room. Every time Danny surfaced he had jumped before he felt it; _them_ safe and warm and still, Steve’s back tight against his front, wrapped in Danny's arms.

It had been a sign how deeply he was out that Danny could reach in his own pocket, wrestle the phone out and call room service and Steve never moved an inch. 

“Don’t want food,” he turned now, voice full of sleep, shifting slowly onto his side. Danny looked up for a second to make sure the pillows supporting his bad leg had moved with him and then he slid too, carefully, until they were nearly face-to-face, pulling him in to stroke his arms, his side, his back.

“Oh, yeah, you do. Neither of us has eaten anything since breakfast. I ordered us one steak, two baked potatoes and a really good bottle of red wine which, since you only took the baby meds, you can have a huge glass of. I am going to drink every other drop. Then we’re going to sleep for fifteen hours. If you try to get up any sooner I’ll brain you with the bottle.”

The pause was so long he almost looked up again to see if Steve was back out.

“Okay.”

Just the one word, no further argument. Danny smiled against Steve’s forehead. 

“I’m afraid you’re going to leave me.”

“What?” The smile was gone, but Danny didn’t move. Couldn’t, he was so stunned.

“I know how things have been lately. How I’ve been; obsessing, cranky, stuck in my own brain. When you suggested this trip out of nowhere? I don’t know, I got the idea maybe it was your last stab at this, and if it didn’t go well you’d be gone.”

It explained so much; the way he’d been afraid to say anything but yes, and the mood on the plane before it even took off. And it made perfect sense: How could someone who'd never had 'forever' out of anybody really believe in it, deep down. How could he _not_ be waiting for the other shoe to drop?

“Hey,” Danny moved down a touch and pushed him gently back against the sofa, demanding his gaze. “Listen, to me; I am never leaving you. Ever. Not voluntarily.”

“You can’t promise that. No one can say...”

“Hell, yes I can,” he heard the tears in his own voice, saw the way Steve was biting his lip and that was about right; Steve the one finally admitting his worst fear and Danny the one to cry about it. “I swear I almost had a heart attack this morning. You are half of my world, babe. And you are stuck with me ‘til d….”

He caught himself and stopped there.

"For good. If we don't last, it'll be you that leaves. Okay?" 

“I’m going to need that in writing.”

“In … what? Are you asking me to _marry_ you?”

“Not big on labels, Danny; legal partnership, marriage, whatever, just... gotta have a contract." Danny was listening for signs of him still being out of it, but Steve sounded more lucid every second. "Can we even _get_ married in Hawaii?”

“Uh-huh. Do you not watch the news? They passed a law, like a year ago.”

“Fine, then I’m asking you to marry me.”

“Holy…”

“I’m not hearing a yes. I’d better hear one soon or…”

“Yes, if you get help. For the abandonment issues and the reckless, bad, terrifyingly piss-poor impulse decision-making.”

“Yes. If you come with me,” Steve said it so fast, like he'd known the demand was coming. Of course he'd known. “For your marriage phobia.”

“Okay,” Danny said after a half beat, during which he decided he really couldn’t argue that one. "We'll get the counseling and then we'll get hitched."

Then Steve’s hand was in his hair and Steve’s lips were on his, tongue flicking, inviting Danny’s to come out and help seal the deal, and it felt like a surreal dream - like maybe both of them had fallen asleep and he didn’t realize it.

“Ten minutes ago I was wondering how I was going to get you to sit up for dinner,” Danny said when he could. “And now…”

“I’ll give you until the food arrives to change your mind- no harm, no foul.”

“So not happening.”

Danny tipped him back and hitched a leg over him gingerly, because maybe they weren’t going to fully consummate the engagement tonight, but they were damn well going to celebrate it some more. 

 

~*~ 

“Good thing we got the bulkhead row,” Danny nodded down at Steve’s still tightly-wrapped leg in the aisle seat, the sweats he had to wear in place of the cargoes or jeans for the flight home. “How’s it feeling today?”

They were almost half way into the trip, past the busy part with the food service and the drink carts and into the quiet lull for movies and naps.

“Good. I can almost put full pressure on it.”

“Yeah, if you want it to hurt like a migraine, right?”

“Well, honestly, yeah, it was an experiment I won't try again for a couple of days but... I really think I won't need surgery.”

Despite the injury they’d had the most restful break they might ever enjoy in their lives. There had been hours upon hours of chill time spent mostly horizontal – at first it was all sleep, then books and iPads crept in, and once Steve was relatively pain-free there was even some sweetly explosive and creatively positioned sex. 

Danny had started to see flickers of the goofy, silly side of him again and damn…it had been so long.

“I think you need to head for the bathroom,” Danny leaned over to murmur it.

“Uh, no, I really don’t…” Steve stopped, a ‘c’mon, you’re kidding me?’ smile breaking out on the edges of his lips.

“I think you need to go and you need to wait for a couple of minutes, and be ready to flip the door open when I tap once.”

“You won’t do it, and you know it.”

“Will so. Know why? We have a perfect excuse: We get caught coming out, and we tell them you, um, realized you were having a harder time navigating than you thought you would and it hit me how long you’d been gone, that you needed help. ‘Cause we’re newly engaged and we’re all connected at the brain like that, all so very sympatico.”

Steve looked at him and snorted, looked away and then back, contemplating it, then took off - PDQ for a guy on crutches.

Danny gave it a few minutes then started back too, looking at the instant message that popped up on his phone courtesy of the plane’s wifi.

_“Don’t get caught.”_

“Won’t.” he wrote back.

_“D, this is crazy.”_

“Refuse to be boring married couple.”

_“Am …really excited about it.”_

“Tease. Stop writing, I’m very busy trying to come blow you.”

_“ !!! ☺ !!”_

“Goofball.”

Danny slid the phone in his pocket, fought back a grin, and tapped once.

~fin~


End file.
